Short Shrift
Thank you, Father, for hearing me
and sharing in my pain
the only one bar whom you serve
who offers no disdain.
From Mansfield's pits to the Western front
the stories I could tell
legless, blinded, gassed and bombed
my mates who fought and fell.
Sent to fight against my will
never done nothing bad
this khaki's for a fighting man
not a simple miner's lad.
Day in, day out with no relief
the onslaught never ceased
until the day I said 'no more'
took off, and headed east.
Stupid, looking back on it
the fear that made me run
from a fate that maybe I'd have missed
I'll see at the rising sun.
Tell the lads who'll send me off
I bear them no ill will
whether Frenchie, Fritz or Tommy boy
a kill is just a kill.
At least I'll miss the sights of all
the rest they'll surely send
just hope by Christmas, like they said
this bloody mess all ends.
Tell family I'm sorry
forgive me, hope they might
for all I done was cut and run
and this end just ain't right.
I want my Mum
June 28th 2015 for competition 'Short shrift' , sponsored by John Lawless
Copyright © Viv Wigley | Year Posted 2015
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